At the first snowfall, I cannot wait. Boots, ski, seasonal ticket, and wake up early on the weekend does not bother me. Getting off the slopes when the snow is fresh regenerates me. Sometimes the intimacy of the descent is disturbed by the presence of many who, like me, have not resisted the call of the snow that day. And so, when the Baradello and the Palabione are taken by assault, I take refuge in the black track of Magnolta.

Certainly more demanding, but also more respectful of that particular silence broken only by my drawings on the snow. At times I stop, I look back and I am pleased to have drawn curves in a landscape so muffled, silent as if we accompanied each other with mutual respect.

Having reached the end, when jumping on the ski lifts, I reflect on the similarity between the skier fleeing from easy and overcrowded slopes to find inner calm and gratification in a more insidious track, and the attitude of the leaders, who right in the hardest moments, express their best qualities.

I think about the difference between exercising one’s leadership when everything goes well and works smoothly and, instead, doing it in moments of crisis or tension, remaining consistent and bringing out the best in oneself.

The most demanding situations skim the group and bring out the leader as a point of reference in the eyes of others. The obstacles, although not welcome, are the occasions when the leader makes the difference compared to the group, as well as a good skier distances the crowd in the difficult and most inaccessible sections of the track.

When we face a difficult circumstance, do we see it as a pitfall or as an opportunity to differentiate ourselves? What does it mean for us to make a difference?